


Tomorrow

by Sonamae



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M, Other, Porn Without Plot, Post-Coital, Post-Coital Cuddling, Sticky, sex happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 06:36:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3371474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonamae/pseuds/Sonamae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drift has interfacing on the mind, even though he's tired.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> This is way too short but it's honestly what I wanted. Drift thinking about the frick frack even after the frick frack.

 Drift sighed and leaned back on the berth, Ratchet rolling off beside him and still trembling from his overload. They’d fooled around with positions again, and Drift couldn’t get the image stills out of his processor even if he did a hard wipe. Ratchet had been more than enthusiastic, and Drift‘s spike slid back into him with a blessed-out numbness. Ratchet called it experience, Drift called it a gift from Primus. Ratchet’s valve could take a pounding, not that Drift was a pounding kind of lover.

  
 No, Drift preferred the long and drawn out torture of a sensual interface rather than the opposing ‘hallways closet frag’ he’d been brought up on. Drift liked watching his spike slide in and out of Ratchet’s valve, sometimes he’d feel poetic and try describing it while they faced. He knew enough dirty talk and enough about Ratchet to know what was hot and what clearly wasn’t.

  
 Ratchet was hot. From his helm to his peds, from the flick of that glossa to the white and red mesh stain of his valve folds. Drift hummed and rolled onto his side, his hand sleepily reaching over to lay across Ratchet’s still open interface array. His valve was still pouring heat, the folds under Drift’s fingers wet and sticky with their transfluids. To Drift’s delight, Ratchet only hummed at the touch, optics still shuttered as he shifted his hips. His legs spread to give Drift more access, and Drift took it greedily.

  
 He’d never tire of touching Ratchet’s valve, but he’d also adore touching his spike. Drift wished that Ratchet would release it, but he’d said he wasn’t in a spike play mood so Drift settled for calling up memories as his fingers rubbed the wet folds.

  
 The thought of the first time he’d seen Ratchet’s spike was enough to stir his spark, but not enough to build his charge just yet. He remembered the curved head and thick shaft as it has extended, a heavy base that always made Drift think of a knot. Ratchet never really talked about it, because it was obviously a mod, but Drift never asked so he couldn’t whine about not knowing. Drift thought about the line of black going up the underside of Ratchet’s spike, the red dots lining both top and bottom. It made his mouth water to remember sucking that spike, or the rare occasions that Ratchet would thrust into his valve.

  
 He moved a single finger up, rubbing at Ratchet’s outer node before he was forced to stop when Ratchet grabbed his wrist. There was no force behind it, only a tired insistence.  
“Done for the night?” Drift asked in a whisper, hand drawing back to rest on Ratchet’s hip.

  
 “Yeah… I’m falling into recharge like it or not.” Ratchet muttered, his head falling to the side. “Were you not done?” His optics never opened, but Drift smiled at him anyway. Just like Ratchet to attempt to stay awake to get Drift off once again. If he said yes he’d end up with a bot falling asleep with a glossa up his valve.

  
 It didn’t sound very appealing.

  
 “I’m done too, we can recharge.” He felt the heavy weight of recharge creep up on him and realized just how much he needed it. Ratchet hummed happily and rolled onto his side, arms and legs pulling Drift in so he was tucked under his chin. Drift hummed in sheer bliss, his own optics shuttering. Maybe tomorrow he’d get up enough courage to ask Ratchet to spike him again, he could really go for it.

  
 Just thinking about that thick spike spreading his valve lips had him rushing to set an internal alarm. First thing after recharge he’d ask, Ratchet was always up for a breakfast ‘face right when he woke up.

  
 Drift couldn’t help but smile, already wrapped up in Ratchet’s warm arms. Tomorrow looked promising.


End file.
